


Kitten Portraits

by Maizeysugah



Series: A Slytherin's Guide to Seduction [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blackmail, Dubious Consent, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Secks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maizeysugah/pseuds/Maizeysugah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, the little games you play in order to get what you really want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kitten Portraits

“ _Ron, it’s not true! I didn’t! Please listen to me!”_

“ _There’s no explanation needed, git. You did it, just admit it.”_

Walking from his final class, Draco Malfoy came to an abrupt halt and braced himself against the corridor wall. He held a hand up, catching Pansy Parkinson by the face to stop her from rounding the corner.

“ _Shh!_ ” he hissed, shoving her back behind him.  He could not see the two arguers from where he was standing, but their voices were unmistakable. “Sounds like Potter’s going to have another bad day. The Gryffindorks must have gotten an early owl delivery with that photo of him snogging my Dark Mark!”

“ _I don’t know how Malfoy got the password, or why he would sneak into our ultra secret meeting, either. I swear I didn’t give it to him or let him in!”_

“ _You and he have…we’ve all seen the evidence, Harry. You’ve been intimate! You and he have done it!”_

“ _That’s low, Ron.”_

“ _No, it’s a travesty, Harry. It’s really the worst thing I can think of.”_

Draco blushed carnation-pink. “You know… I had to let him kiss it… for that thing, the photo… we… to get him in trouble. Stop fucking looking at me like that, Parkinson!”

Pansy snorted under her hand.

“ _Get over yourself, Ron.”_

“ _Get over him, Harry!”_

“ _Why is it such a bad thing if he wants to divulge all of the information he knows about his father and all the other Slytherin's Death Eater parents just for a slim chance to snog me? I think we should listen to Malfoy!  He’s really putting an amazing effort into selling out everyone he knows!”_

Draco’s eyes grew large. He froze like a statue.  “I what?” 

Pansy shushed him, listening closely.

“ _Because he’s just a rotten, ruddy snitch, that’s why! He sold out his entire dorm and told us all of their dirty secrets if we agreed to let him hump your pillow for five minutes.”_

“ _Wow, that's pretty cheap. What did he tell you?_ _”_

“ _Okay, ooh yeah_ , _he showed us a photo of Pansy Parkinson with her face in Millicent Bulstrode’s crotch… he then went to pretend that he was still her friend! Do you really want someone like that on our side?”_

“ _I suppose he might be a little untrustworthy…”_

“ _H_ _e is, Harry—Draco Malfoy is the worst person in the entire world!”_

An icy chill swept through Draco’s bones. He gasped, hearing Pansy wheeze and pull away from him. He turned to look at her, shaking his head adamantly. “That’s not true!” he whispered, grasping for her arm before the stunned girl could run off. 

Pansy could hardly breathe from the reeling shock of betrayal. Her pug-like face contorted in horror. “You told them about me and M-millie?  Y-you have photos of it? I don’t even remember how that happened!  H-how could you?”

“ _Like anyone honestly looked at those photos.”_

“ _You know that’s only one example, Harry. You can defend him all you want, but he’s done worse… a lot worse.”_

“ _Are you referring to the time he told us about Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, and what they did with a Beater’s Bat and a Golden Snitch? Ugh! I just want to forget.”_

Again, Pansy jerked out of Draco’s grip, stunned. “You told them about that?!”

“ _Just stay away from him, Harry. I reckon there’s something to be said about a bloke who betrays everyone he knows just to get into someone’s pants.”_

“ _Hmm, I see your point, Ron.  I'm glad I can't remember being with him. Maybe he wiped my memory of it, like he did to Parkinson and all the other students in his dormitory after he got them drunk and persuaded to them to play Truth or Dare with various fruits and vegetables he nicked from the kitchens.”_

“ _I'm really creeped out from discussing that sociopath and the horrible, rotten, awful things he does to his own people._ _C’mon, it’s getting late.”_

As the voices died off, Pansy began to retreat into the corridor with her hands out in front of her. “You stay away from me, you traitor! Everyone will know! I’m telling them all! Don’t bother coming back to the dorms!”

Frantic, Draco screamed. “Wait!  Wait!”

* * *

_*Hic*_ Harry staggered into the dark third floor corridor and bumped directly into the moping, whimpering form of Draco, who just happened to be locked out of his room with nowhere to go. 

“Oh, sssssorry,” he slurred pathetically, and slid down the wall to land clumsily next to the weeping blond. “Didn’t see yea there, big boy. How’s tricks?”

Draco’s hair swayed perfectly as he turned to look at the adorably drunk Gryffindor. “Get fucked, Potter.”

“Ah, c’mon now,” Harry said in a chipper wisp, slinging an arm around the other’s shoulders, “we’ve been intimate. No need to use our surnames any more. Call me ‘Harry’.”

“Alright,” Draco smirked, “Get fucked, _Harry_.”

Harry grinned. “Tha’s the spirit.”

“Why are you out here?” Draco was seething in his spot.  His little grey eyes danced around Harry’s form. “Get chucked out again? Give me that!” He yanked a bottle of Fire Whiskey from the boy’s hand and took a healthy swig.

“Yeah,” Harry said, shrugging. “Typical weekend for me. Something’s delivered by owl and I get chucked out.”

“Serves you right,” Draco whispered under his breath.

“Right then, give it up!” Harry cried, acting something like a pissed-drunk idiot might; clenching his fists and stamping a foot on the floor with impatience. Draco rolled his eyes and handed the bottle back, but Harry slapped it away.  “Not that, Show me the Dark Mark!  I need to suck on something.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up in mystery. “My Dark Mark?” He took another quick swallow from the bottle, intrigued. “Whoever said I had any sort of mark?”

“Oh, please spare me the excuses, Malfoy! I might as well live up to my reputation of being a Slyserin shagger and a Dark Mark sucker!” he blathered noisily. “Something of that sort, anyway.”

Draco faked a cheeky smile, thoroughly annoyed. “It’s ‘Slytherin’, ‘kay?”

Harry pouted and lowered his head. “Everyone knows you have it, just like everyone knows that you’re a bloody traitor.”

“You’re rambling,” Draco spat. He scooted a notch farther down the wall. “I had no idea you were this irritating, Potter.”

“I’m sorry you got chucked out of your dormitory,” Harry mumbled, ignoring Draco’s disdain. “I wish there was something I could do to help.” He smiled earnestly at the blond, batting thick lashes at the boy beside him. 

“Idiot, it figures that you’re the only person my memory charms work on.  I’ve tried everything on them, nothing’s worked.” Draco took a huge gulp of the whiskey, letting it scorch his poor throat. 

And then it hit him. Like a brick. He threw his arm around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him closer. A drunken Harry at his mercy was exactly what he needed. Harry was very adept at charms. “How well are you at memory charms?”

“Fairly decent,” Harry spouted pointedly. He curled into Draco’s side, nuzzling his face in the other boy’s neck. A dainty hand slid between his thighs. “But let’s not talk about boring stuff right now. Tell me how bloody hot we were together when we had sex.”

Draco looked down at Harry’s crotch, watching the pretty boy rub himself through the tormenting material of his school trousers. Draco gulped as he felt his body react to the divine sight. “Fuck,” he breathed.  More Fire Whiskey slid down his throat in ravenous gulps. “W-we… damn, Potter… that’s er… keep doing that. It’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah, you like that?” Harry asked him against the shell of his ear. Breathy panting dampened the whitish hair tucked behind it. “Tell me, Draco.”

Draco shivered.  “Er… we shag like minks when we’re together… So. Bloody. Gorgeous.” His own hand moved toward his aching need while his eyes were glued on Harry’s.

“And do you shag me, or do I shag you?” Harry begged through heavy panting, purling the enticing air across Draco’s collar.

“Oh, Merlin,” Draco moaned. “We mostly…” 

Harry’s once busy hand moved up along his thigh and slipped down between Draco’s, swatting the other hand away. “Mostly _what_?” he asked seductively.

“Take turns!” Draco blurted. “We… oh yeah, don’t stop doing that… we typically… ohmygod…” Harry’s palm cupped him around the crotch of his trousers. “We take a turn on each other’s… whoever’s more… _fuck_ … demanding.”

“Mmm, sounds fantastic,” Harry mewed. He pulled his hand back and stood up, beckoning Draco to follow. “So you want me to help you get back into your dorms?”

Draco took Harry’s hand. He looked carefully at the other boy in curious fashion. “You would do that?”

Harry glowered surreptitiously. “I would.”

“Do you know how much this will save my neck?” Gods, he almost kissed the poor sod for being so stupid. “I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

Harry was looking a lot less drunk at that moment. His eyes narrowed, his shoulders squared. “Oh, I know you will, as in tonight. I want all those things you’ve got saved up on me and my mates.  I want all of it, and a promise to stop messing with us.  We’re not that stupid, Malfoy. I want the originals of me and the Dark Mark, I want every pair of Hermione’s knickers you have hanging up in your common room, and I want a promise that you’ll never try your filthy tricks on any of us again.”

Draco blanched. “How did you…” He set himself to run. The air in the corridor turned warm, confining. Something wasn’t exactly right. He told his feet to move, but they simply refused.

“Don’t bother trying to escape. You should be very familiar with the potion I just gave you. It makes one somewhat susceptible to suggestion,” Harry informed the shocked boy. “Now, what do you say? We have a deal?”

“You put a potion... Ugh, fine,” Draco hissed. “I’ll get everything. The photos, the knickers, Ron’s weird sketches, Dean’s porn collection, Lavender’s… uhh, whatever that is … everything! Let’s just do this, alright?”

Harry remained unmoving.

“I said alright!” Draco cried. “What’s the problem? Let’s go.” He turned to move, but his legs stiffened.

“If I’m going to help you get you back inside, you’ve gotta do something for me, okay?”

Draco turned back around, cocking his head. “What do you mean?”

Harry smirked cutely. “I mean I don’t trust you. If I help you make amends with your creepy cohorts, you technically don’t have to give me the evidence you’re hiding in your room. I’m going to need collateral.”

“You want me to suck you off? I already planned on it.”

“More than that,” Harry injected.

“What? You want money? I thought you were loaded, Potter,” Draco fumed, feeling his arousal begin to deflate. “There’s no way I can get any money at this time of night. I need to get back there before one of them sends off an owl to my father!  Tonight, Potter!”

“Not money,” Harry assured him, smiling. He leaned against the corridor wall. “Seeing as you had your fun with me and your stupid Dark Mark, I’d say a little payback is well deserved.”

Draco scrubbed his face with his hand. He reached out, taking Harry by the arm to get him in motion once more. “Sure, we’ll talk about it on the way.”

“No, we’ll talk about it now,” Harry reiterated, jerking back to stay stationary. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you’ve agreed to my terms.”

Draco stood owl-eyed for a moment, contemplating. 

Harry smiled in retaliation.

“Then what do you want?” he finally asked, balling his shirt up in his hands.

“Your arse,” Harry said bluntly. The smile grew wide, and little dimples formed on each cheek. “In any way I see fit.”

Draco blinked. He looked around the empty hallway slowly. “Here?”

“Don’t be daft,” Harry grunted, giving him a shove back. “The dorm’s empty right now, all of the Gryffindors are having a top secret meeting together on how to deal with my antics. My bed will do.”

 “But how will that—”

“Photographs,” Harry interrupted coolly, as he shoved Draco on. "I’ll take photos of you as evidence of how fucking pathetic you are, and if you cross me – everyone will get a copy.  Agreed?”

Draco clicked his tongue while rolling his eyes. “Photographs of what? You’re the pathetic one.”

Harry growled the password at the Fat Lady portrait and gave Draco a healthy push as soon as it swung open and parted from the wall. “Keep moving,” he ordered, dragging him through the quiet of the common room. They reached the spiral stairway in haste, and Harry inclined his head to watch Draco’s reaction. He slapped his bum, hard. “Up, up, up.”

Hoping Harry hadn’t heard his diminutive yelp; Draco shrugged his shoulders as he took the steps. “Everyone knows we’ve shagged, Potter. This is ridiculous.”

“They haven’t seen you being shagged in Umbridge's smelly cardigan and velvet bow,” Harry added quietly.

Draco froze before being shoved head-first through a door. “Her what?” he gaped, cringing.

Harry pushed him onto the closest bed and began rummaging through the truck beside it. “While holding up one of her kitten portraits. Yes, this’ll do.” He stood erect and turned, holding a bundle of pink and green things in his arms and tossed them at Draco. “Get dressed.”

With a sigh, Draco held the skirt up to his chest in disgust, examining the thickly woven synthetic material. “Will I get this evidence back when I return all of yours?”

“Sure,” Harry remarked, snickering under his hand. “Oh wait, I forgot Professor Trelawney's glasses. Put these on.”

Groaning in frustration, Draco began the tedious task of undressing and redressing in the itchy green tweed and matted pink fuzz.  Harry eagerly stepped up, helping him with the zipper and attaching the bow in his hair just so. Draco fell back against the mattress, sucking in his lower lip as the dark haired boy loomed over him and handed him a saucer with a moving picture of a little flat-faced kitten batting a paw at some dangling string.  Nothing had ever felt as humiliating.

Draco was a pretty boy. He was about as pretty as any boy could get, and dressed so awkwardly, squirming under Harry’s lecherous gaze, only served to make him look prettier. “Wow,” Harry said softly, feeling his mouth water.”Definitely looks better on you.” As he undressed himself, he glanced around the room with a clenched jaw before settling into the mattress beside to nervous Slytherin, gathering courage privately.

Moving onto his side, Draco cupped the other boy’s face. Their legs twined, his lips grazed. Harry’s put his hand on the blond’s thigh, sliding the scratchy material up to his hip. “I’m at your mercy,” Draco whispered, looking intensely into the soft pools of green.

They moved in silence, their arousals grinding for friction, their hands clasped around the other’s necks. The dark enclosure of the four-poster bed encased them behind the ugly, scarlet and gold curtains. Their panting breaths grew rasped and heavy through each stimulating movement.  Harry pulled Draco onto his lap, parting his thighs and bending his knees to accommodate the Slytherin’s larger frame while he eased himself into position.

The lint-ball covered twill fitted his form like a smooth glove, tapering to the shape of his hips before he hiked it up. Sliding two fingers past Harry’s plush lips, Draco rocked on top of him, his knees planted firmly on the Gryffindor’s sides, and the toes digging hard into his calves.  “Get ‘em real wet,” he whispered, feeling the soft velvet of that perfect tongue he so loved saturating the digits.

Harry mewed again in a way that made Draco’s body tense with goose bumps; an undeniable groan of pleasure that built up behind the walls of cold stone of his façade.He pulled his hand away to finger himself, feeling the cool breeze caress the wet skin, his goal was to make Harry create that sound as many times as he could before it was over. He leaned inward, taking Harry’s mouth with his own, tasting his tongue as he prepared his body.  Harry was so fucking beautiful, and he wanted to be fucked, long and hard, he wanted more than anything for Harry to be the one to do it. “Admit it,” Draco cooed, taking the glasses off to arch one brow meticulously in superiority as he reached behind his back to take Harry’s cock in his hand. They positioned themselves, Harry arching his back and Draco lightly rolled his hips over him. “You really do fancy me, don’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry swallowed, again lowering his voice. "And put the glasses back on. We're going all the way here." He gripped Draco’s sides, thrusting, unable to wait for the feeling of warmth to sheath him. Both threw their heads back with sharp inhalations.

“Just so you know… I’m taking over from here,” Draco huffed, pinioning the smaller one beneath him, giving only his hips enough room for canting. Harry’s wrists were trapped above his head before he knew it.

Harry gasped.  “What are you doing?”

Draco smirked. “Don’t stop moving, alright?  Just listen. There’s no need to whisper. No one’s here. There’s no way for you to take my photograph in this getup now, so I suggest start cooperating with me.”

“You think you’re that clever, eh?” Harry snapped, struggling against the firm hold. “I got all that the stuff back from your room this afternoon. I had em in my possession before you and Pansy eavesdropped in on me and Ron’s conversation, idiot.”

“Is that so?” Draco asked, taken aback. His light-grey eyes narrowed, and his grip on Harry increased. Harry was still looking smug and gorgeous, and still rutting against Draco like an animal. He gave in momentarily, dropping his hips in rhythm, feeling the rough material on his chest rise and fall, grazing over his nipples.

“Yeah, that’s so,” Harry groaned breathlessly. His body was quivering beneath the Slytherin’s. “Oh god, I’m gonna fucking come.”

Draco nodded, releasing Harry’s wrists to grab handfuls of wild black hair. He clenched his muscles, drawing that sound from Harry, that sound that said everything he needed to know. The angelic whimper played in his ears, Harry convulsed and collapsed beneath him, and Draco again leaned forward over the dazed boy so he could show him the wretched grin on his face once Harry's eyes adjusted to the dark.

“Look at me,” he ordered firmly, tapping Harry’s cheek with a finger, rousing him from his dazed stupor.

Harry’s eyes remained closed. A cherubic smirk curled up on his lips.  He slid his hands under his pillow, clasping his fingers. “I’ve seen you. And now I’ve seen you getting fucked in the ugliest outfit in the whole world.”

“Fine,” Draco growled. “You’ve got your stuff back, you humiliated me… you win.  Are you still going to help me get back in my dorms? If my father hears that story he’s going to kill me. I mean that literally, Potter. He. Will. Kill. Me.”

“Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Harry groaned, reaching up to adjust the bug-eyed glasses on Draco's pathetic face.  “You forgot to mention the photos I got of this encounter. I think I’ll keep them for myself in exchange for helping you. How’s that sound?”

Draco sighed heavily and slapped Harry’s hand away. “There are no photos.”

“Well, actually,” another voice, from seemingly nowhere, cut into the uncomfortable air. Behind the boys, at the foot of the bed, Hermione Granger appeared from beneath Harry’s invisibility cloak. She tucked it under her knee and shrugged. “There are photos.”

“Wha…” Draco dropped his head, defeated. With a hiccough, he slipped the cardigan off of his shoulders. “I should have known.”

Harry winced inwardly. Draco had never reacted so beaten. Feeling somewhat less than superior anymore and only after Hermione moved off of the bed and out of view, he shoved Draco his belongings so he could dress. “Well fuck, let’s get this over with,” he sighed.

* * *

Draco, Harry, and Hermione quietly walked through the dungeon corridors, none of them looking at anything other than their own feet. 

Harry was miserable. Maybe this silly contest of wits was getting out of hand. Maybe he did fancy Draco.  Maybe he should end it before someone got hurt. He took Hermione’s arm, stopping her. “Look, maybe we shouldn’t do this,” he whispered into her ear. “Giving the Slytherins the photos could really get him hurt.”

“I wasn’t planning on giving the Slytherins the photos, Potter,” she replied, recoiling. “They’re waiting for something much better to be delivered, actually.” 

“Oh, Draco piped, grabbing Harry by the arm. “I forgot to mention something earlier while you were _having your way_ with me…”

Harry stiffened, looking between Hermione and Draco. Professor Umbridge's garb was shoved into his hands and he was thrust forward. He locked his knees, stopping, breathing hard. “What’s going on?”

Draco chuckled, and his grip tightened. “Veritaserum, Polyjuice Potion, a stunner spell… Have I mentioned yet that I caught Pansy before she made it to the dorms; that after convincing her of the truth we cornered Hermione and tortured your big plans out of her?  I forgot, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Harry breathed. “You may have forgotten to mention that part.” He looked over his shoulder, scowling at Hermione. “Pansy, you fucking… forget it. So, what now?”

“Well, we’ve got some time before the Mudblood wakes up. I think that you in that cardigan,” Draco soothed, lifting Harry’s chin, “and nothing else, on your knees in front of me, begging me to suck my cock, swallowing it whole until I fucking choke you out with it. That might suffice.” He pulled his wand free, waving it teasingly in front of Harry’s face. “What do you think of that, Potter?”

Harry set his jaw. “I’d say I probably deserved it.”

“Brave boy. But first,” Draco said, and pointed his wand at the potion-transformed Pansy, stunning her into unconsciousness. Harry jumped in shock as she slumped to the floor beside them. Draco bent down, removing the invisibility cloak and camera from her clutched hands. "I think we’ll do this one in private.”

Harry pressed the tips of his fingers against his lips, feigning concern. The gleam in Draco’s eye was unmistakable. The game would continue and probably grow, but their quest to outdo the other had just become personal.

Draco grabbed Harry by the shirt, twisting the material up in his fist, raising Harry to his toes. “Now, where were we?” he asked in a husky voice, their noses touching.

Harry sniffled innocently. “You were going to teach me a lesson.”

“Mmm, that’s right,” he purred. He glanced over to a door set off down the hallway, grinning evilly. “I think I’ll molest you on Snape’s desk all night and then wipe your memory clean. Then I’ll start all over again the next time I want to fuck that sweet little arse of yours.” 

Harry bit down on his tongue, suppressing a chortle. “Wipe my memory, right. You're so good at that.” He deserved it; he had been bested, truly bested by the git for the first time. As his arms were yanked up behind his back and he was shoved forward, he knew he’d have a chance at retaliation soon enough, and this time he wouldn’t take anything for granted.

  



End file.
